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I am lucky to be unsure of what is next because my options are so plentiful; reframes my fears about the future

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reblog and put in the tags a physical feature about yourself that might change your mutuals visual idea of you

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｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 actually, life is beautiful and i have time

ﾟ･｡ ･

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It was during the covid lockdown so he was supposed to stay indoors, I think that may have been what did the trick.

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8 years

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“it’s circus work.” not to me. not if it’s my monkeys.

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they were in love here and here

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let boys be soft. ☁️

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propaganda i am not falling for:

always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.

beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines

pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact

beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art

sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity

treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins

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i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever

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I've been thinking about this all day.

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png from this post

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Be Hot, Have Fun and Stay True to Yourself Because People Will Villainize You Regardless